


Journey

by PidgeonsPen



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Local war criminal adopts a psychic toddler, The dadliest of dad urges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PidgeonsPen/pseuds/PidgeonsPen
Summary: Legacy.That was Mach's destiny, to be Lord Frost's legacy, to uphold his beliefs and the system that lifted Osakiru from the dirt, to carry out his will and ensure that the people of Osakiru - no, the world - would understand his greatness.But Mach wasn't ready. It's been six years since the events of Forces, six years since Frost lead the attack on the neighboring country of Chun-nan, six years since G.U.N put him down, and Mach still hasn't made any progress. The people, ungrateful and content to stagnate, are trying to forget Lord Frost, to write him off as a monster, a dictator, a tyrant.That's why Mach founded the Sons of the Oni - to remind the people of their place, of Lord Frost's greatness, of what he is truly owed. Mach knows who he is, and what his destiny is.... At least, he thought he did. When fate puts a small child in his path, suddenly his perception of the world, and of himself, is thrown off. This wasn't in he plan, this wasn't part of his destiny... but that doesn't matter, does it?
Kudos: 1





	Journey

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written last year as a birthday gift for my bestie, NuttyRabbit over on tumblr - and also originally titled "Guardians". The entire concept of Osakiru - the Mobius equivalent to Japan - and all of the characters featured save for Nozomi and Akio belong to him. 
> 
> This was - and still is - my longest piece of writing to date. I apologize if the formatting is a little weird; I'm an artist first, and a writer never, actually! But it's something I hope to get comfortable with.   
> Speaking of art, all of the art in this fic was done my me. You can find more of my work on twitter and tumblr - I go by the same handle on both sites.

__

_Airigasaki, Osakiru._

Mach heaved a sigh as he rested the nail-bat against his shoulder, peering out at the chaos and embers from behind his signature oni mask. People screamed, cried, and called out for help, for loved ones, for a savior that would not come. The sirens in the distance were nearly drowned out by the crackling of the flames, the hollers of the Sons of the Oni crew and cries of anguish from their victims.

He watched, breathing in the heavy smoke and feeling the heat blasting against his body, the scent and sounds of death around him all but drowned out by his own thoughts.

This was _still_ Lord Frost’s country, and as long as Mach drew breath, he was going to do everything in his power to remind the people of that fact. Frost’s legacy was in his veins, in his heart; so long as Mach kept going, his **legacy** would never die.

* * *

Nozomi stirred, blinking slowly. Something had nudged her awake. She wanted to sleep, mumbling, huffing as she nestled deeper against the… garbage bags? She was nudged again.

Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of a baseball bat, wrapped in barbed wire being held out at her. The owner knelt down to her level, his clothes tattered and torn, his face hidden behind a wooden, scary mask.  
… Or at least, a mask that would be scary to most children. Not Nozomi. She was brave. Fearless.

“Yo. You alive?” The stranger asked, his voice flat.   
Nozomi stared blankly, yawning again as her stomach growled loudly. It was the only response he got out of her.

The masked stranger stared at her for what seemed a very long time, and Nozomi curled up again. Hunger pangs shot through her stomach and she whimpered pathetically. After a few moments, the stranger left; she didn't seem to notice. 

Nozomi tried to make sense of the events in her head, fuzzy as they were.  
She remembered a long, fun day out exploring, making the foster workers worry about her whereabouts. Mrs. Suzuki had found her, by the playground, and was walking her back when there was a horrible boom, and people screaming and running. Nozomi recalled Mrs. Suzuki screaming and picking her up, and running. It was so dark, Nozomi couldn’t see - and neither could the poor, scared people, who ran into Mrs. Suzuki, knocking Nozomi from her arms and sending her tumbling. After that, all the child could recall was the stampede of footsteps, being trampled in the fleeing crowd and stumbling into this alleyway. The smoke had made her lungs hurt, and so she laid down low, just like she was taught, and fell asleep.

Now she laid against the bags - uncomfortable, but she was past caring - and wondered when Mrs. Suzuki would come find her, if she should stay or get up and go look for her. She settled on the latter, and as she sat up, she heard footsteps approaching, and looked to find the masked stranger from before approaching. He stopped in front of her, and set down a bottle of water and an armful of… food? Her ears shot up attentively, and she swore she heard a snicker from the stranger. That was okay. People liked her ears! They said so often, she recalled.

“… You should probably eat," The masked stranger said.

The mysterious man made a weird huffy noise, and looked around before helping open the bags and water bottle for her, placing them before the small child, and waited to see if she would move, if she _could_ move in her current state. What would he do if she couldn’t…? He’d have to keep moving. Maybe someone else could help her, or maybe she’d simply die. That was just how it was. For now, he watched.

Nozomi looked down at the meal, and back up at the disheveled mobian who stood before her – and promptly stuck her tiny hands in the food, shoving fistfuls in her mouth, chewing noisily with her mouth open.

“Thanks, Mr. Monster-” Nozomi started.  
“…Name’s Mach. And don’t thank me.” The stranger corrected her, against his better judgement.  
“Thanks, Mr. Mach!”

Mach stared on in disbelief. He wasn’t sure what he expected from the child - looking at her, she couldn’t be more than three, maybe four years old at most. It was why he couldn’t just… keep walking. He didn’t usually see the unfortunate victims who were caught up in what he’d set out to do - not the children, at least. Never one this small. He was no less determined to fulfil Frost’s legacy, but it was hard to ignore seeing such a tiny body laying down on a pile of garbage bags like she was just minutes earlier, lethargic and left to… He didn’t want to think about it. She wouldn’t have been the first. She wouldn’t be the last. He knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching her.

She was a mess, with tousled hair and wrapped up in an old, tattered sweater that was entirely too big for her, with giant sleeves she used to wipe her face when she was done.  
It was then she raised her arms towards Mach, and whined.  
“Up, please!” She requested.

Behind his mask, Mach arched a brow. She certainly came around quickly. It was… charming.

But Nozomi wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated, looking up at him with her big, bright eyes and a smile that, behind the carved wooden mask, Mach found himself returning, betraying his better judgement.

“Up!” The child demanded once more, and with sagging shoulders and an amused exhale, Mach obliged after making sure no one was around.

“What’s yer name, pipsqueak?” He asked.  
“I’m not a pipsqueak! I’m Nozomi! Nozomi Hibiki!” She huffed, pouting so fiercely it earned a chuckle from Mach.

She was so small, so light in his scarred arms, so fearless in his presence, that Mach couldn’t help but smile behind the mask - it somehow made him feel lighter, though he wasn’t sure why. As the child settled in his arms, content with having gotten her way, she tapped a tiny claw against the Oni mask, wondering what his face must look like underneath.

“Where did you stay before this?” He asked, ignoring the dryness in his throat.  
“In the big building, with the other kids.” Nozomi answered.

 _The burnt pile of rubble Mach had passed by before he found her._  
The Son of the Oni felt a chill wash over him. He swallowed thickly as he imagined a burning building, full of tiny bodies like Nozomi’s… And quickly shook it off. He had work to do. Important work. It wasn’t _his_ fault; their deaths were the failings of their caretakers, the people who _betrayed_ Lord Frost’s memory, who let G.U.N. come in and tear down his legacy, who failed to get those kids out… And he hadn’t even known there was a foster care facility in the vicinity. He thought he was burning down markets. Stores. Not _children_.

The pugilist fidgeted slightly - he was supposed to be meeting his crew, do some interrogating, help set things right– but he couldn’t leave her here. Sighing, he wondered if maybe she had anyone else who could take care of her… and if they survived the Sons of the Oni raid. Against his better judgement, he asked: “Yo, Nozomi, you got anywhere else to go?”  
“Go where?”  
“No, no I mean – The place ya lived is gone. Did you know anyone else you can stay with?”  
“Oh!! I do!”  
“Okay, who?”  
“You, Mr. Mach!” She giggled, poking the mask.

Mach froze, mouth agape as he stared at the little girl in his arms.  
“Yer shittin’ me, right?”

* * *

It was night again, and there wasn’t a soul to be found on the streets of Airigasaki. As Mach and Nozomi came out of the smoldering half of the district, people fled at the sight of Mach. Screamed in terror at the insignia on the back of his jacket. The Sons of the Oni had come upon their quiet town, and not a soul was brave enough to tear the sleeping child from his arms - or realize that he was looking for someone to take her.  
The pugilist cursed himself under his breath. This kid wasn’t his problem. Not his responsibility. He knew he shouldn’t care so much, but feeling her small form against his body, her little breaths against his neck as she slept, the way tiny fingers clasped at his shirt - it made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe it was selfish, clinging to this small feeling of importance when he had a legacy to fulfil. Akio and Mirage wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if they found out, but for now, that didn’t matter. He’d find somewhere to dump the kid, and they’d never know.

Sighing as he reached a park, he set the sleeping child onto the bench. His hand moved to brush her overgrown bangs out of her eyes, but pulled away. He looked around warily, wondering if maybe she’d be okay if he just left her here, asleep on the bench. Maybe someone would pick her up in the morning. He glanced down at her, and sighed before walking away.

“Sleep tight, Pipsqueak.”

* * *

It was daybreak. Mach weaved between the tight alleyways of Airigasaki, hoping to avoid the cops. He just had to make it to the station, and he’d be in the clear. Shimahara was only a few short stops away - that was where the next raid was happening, and he hoped to recruit more men into the Sons of the Oni.  
Last night had opened the pugilist’s eyes; the sooner he found Mangetsu - Lord Frost's blade, now said to have been cursed - the sooner he amassed enough of Lord Frost’s followers, the sooner this all could stop. The sooner he could set this damned country back on the right track, and finally get G.U.N off their land. Out of the late Emperor’s palace. The sooner he could fulfil his _destiny_.

He turned the corner when suddenly a small, loud voice called out to him.

“Mr. Mach!”  
Suddenly, Nozomi was dangling above, hanging from an awning, a huge grin plastered onto her face. Mach instinctively held out his arms to catch her, and she seemed to take this as an invitation, as she leapt from the awning, frantically flapping her underdeveloped wings and plummeting down into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He stared at her, silent, unsure of what to do, or why he didn’t want to put her down, when the sound of approaching sirens startled him back to reality. He set her down hastily, and bolted, dashing through the alleyways and crowded streets. He didn’t look back, but he could hear her tiny footsteps, running behind him.

“Hey! Wait for me! Wait” She whined.  
Mach didn’t answer. He focused on his goal - reaching the train before it departed. Surely he’d lose her on the way there. Not his problem. Soon, Airigasaki and Nozomi would just be a distant memory. No more distractions.

  
“Mr. Mach!” Her little legs couldn’t keep up. He heard a soft thud as she tripped, and cried out:  
“Why are you ignoring me?!”

Her words were like thunder in Mach’s head. He froze, panting heavily as he looked down at the small child, her scraped little knee, the tears streaming down her face as she sniffled and rubbed her eyes.  
And in that moment, Mach saw himself in the child.  
He didn’t really think about it, when he walked up to her, scooped her in his arms, and just continued to run, a calloused hand firmly on her back, supporting her, securing her.

They boarded the train together.

* * *

 _It was raining in Shimahara._  
The train station had vending machines with ice creams. He didn’t feel like eating, but Nozomi was enjoying a treat. She was a mess of matted fur, sticky fingers and sopping wet – and shoveling an entire ice cream sandwich into her mouth. It was gross, sloppy, and somehow endearing. It was such a far cry from how sad she was as they boarded the train, her feelings hurt by Mach’s attempts to abandon her, or how curious she had become aboard the train, gasping and tugging on Mach’s sleeve excitedly as she looked out the window.

He was beginning to understand why people had kids. He’d only known her for about a day, and she’d dragged him through a whirlwind of emotions since they met, and yet – this was the happiest he’d been in _years_. He envied her youthful enthusiasm, her innocence, her simple joy - and more than that, he wanted to protect it. Protect _her._ But she wasn't his - she couldn't be. He had a destiny to fulfill, and she wasn't part of it. Having a family was _not_ in the plan.

... _He was going to miss her._  
“All done, Pipsqueak?” He asked.  
Nozomi had been sitting on a bench with him outside the station, her legs dangling off the seat as she kicked them while stuffing her face with ice cream.

“Mhm!” She held up her empty, sticky hands at Mach to prove it. He laughed.  
“Let’s go then.”

The two of them set off.  
Mach fidgeted, brimming with nervous energy. The raid was tonight, and where would that leave Nozomi? He couldn’t take her with him - it’d traumatize her, make her hate him and could effectively cost him recruits if they thought he was going soft. Handing her off to someone who lived in the area meant she would just be among the body count after the raid and he couldn’t stomach the thought. He cursed himself for getting attached.  
 ** _[ Fuckin’ idiot. ]_** Mach thought to himself.

“Mr. Mach! You shouldn’t say bad words!” Nozomi scolded him, putting her hands on her hips.  
“Sorry, sorry.” Mach mumbled, rolling his eyes behind the mask. He didn't realize he'd mumbled, but didn't think much of it.

As the two continued to walk down the streets of Shimahara, Mach found himself thinking back to Takeda, who had been like... Like family to him, before everything fell apart. She would have known what to do with Nozomi, how to take care of her – it only now occurred to Mach that while he was okay with being soaked thanks to his aquatic nature, Nozomi probably wasn’t. He wondered if it was possible to track Takeda down, and if he could, whether or not she’d be willing to help him with his little predicament.  
But for now, he had an idea.  
“C’mon, Pipsqueak. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Half an hour and two stolen towels later, Mach walked into a Children’s Department store with Nozomi. He had a few bucks - might as well treat the kid. He had to get her out of that drenched sweater anyway.  
He let her lead him, her tiny fingers curled around his as she excitedly dragged him along, gasping at all the cool clothes and pointing excitedly at what appealed to her – and what appealed to her absolutely stole Mach’s heart.

It was a positively hideous black t-shirt with a cartoonish skull, which wore a fantastically awful bright pink bow. There was glitter on the bow, and everywhere, really, and a pair of black leggings with the ugliest little tutu dress- which, surprising no one, also had glitter - and the tiniest pair of punk boots Mach had ever seen.

He bought the items to the counter, his heart hammering in his chest; what the fuck was he doing? He could be caught. Arrested. He was putting Frost’s legacy on the line for this– this _adorable_ little punk.  
He stood stiffly before the register, and the woman behind it smiled at him warmly.

“I uh, need ta pay for these. For her.” He fumbled the words out.  
“Of course.” The woman said, patiently. As she rang up the skull shirt, Mach chuckled dryly.  
“She’s uh, got weird taste.”

The woman gave him a look, eyeing him up and down as he stood before her, hoodie pulled up, wearing his Oni mask and in his usual, tattered attire, smiled and said, “I can’t imagine where she gets it from.”

Mach was grateful that the mask hid his features, as an insidious blush crept across his features as he muttered under his breath, taking the bag, calling over Nozomi and hastily tutting her to the backroom to get changed so they could leave.

* * *

Soon, the two stopped to get lunch. Some on-the-go ramen was a welcome treat, and after retreating to the relative safety of a dark alley, Mach finally lifted his mask, turning it so it rested on the side of his head so that he could eat.

Nozomi nearly spilled her cup in shock, leaning forward suddenly as she saw Mr. Mach’s face for the very first time.

“Whoa! Your eyes are so cool!” She gasped.  
Mach chuckled, “Yeah? Watch this.”

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he focused. When he opened his eyes again, giving the kid a crooked but genuine grin, his eyes were glowing an array of different colors. Nozomi was mesmerized, flapping her tiny wings excitedly, earning another laugh from Mach.

As the glow faded out, the two ate their lunch in relative silence. Or, rather, Mach fell deep into his own thoughts and didn’t hear whatever topic Nozomi was prattling off about. She tended to jump around a lot and ramble about nothing in particular, and sometimes it came out a bit like gibberish. Four year olds weren’t exactly known for being great conversation partners, but Mach didn't mind. He listened to her intently, indulging her ramblings about nothing and everything all at once, his mind occasionally trailing back to his _mission._

Without really thinking about it, he pulled an old, tattered journal from his jacket’s inner pocket.  
It was solid black, with ice-blue decals. The words on the pages inside were written in a delicate, formal handwriting, each thought carefully recorded.  
 ** _[Legacy, huh…? Ya sure know how to pick ‘em, Lord Frost.]_** Mach thought to himself, as his calloused fingers traced over a page in the journal. His time with Nozomi had made him feel like himself again for the first time in years, he had laughed for what felt like the first time in an eternity.

“What’s a legacy?” Nozomi’s question pulled Mach back to reality, and he stared, dumbfounded.  
 _Where did that come from?_  
“Uh… Well, a legacy is… when you represent someone’s ideals an’ shit, an’ carry it on fer ‘em after they’re gone. Make sure it survives, no matter what. Make sure nobody forgets.”  
“Ohh,” Nozomi said, her face serious. “And who’s Lord Frost?”

Mach nearly dropped the journal, staring at Nozomi slack-jawed. No way. No fuckin’ way.  
 ** _[You pickin’ my mind, Pipsqueak? Like it’s your nose?]_**

“Gross!” Nozomi giggled.   
Mach opened his mouth to speak, and no sound came out.  
How had he missed this? He smacked his forehead, recalling when she had scolded him for thinking a curse word. He’d been so wrapped up in everything, it never occurred to him that he hadn’t said it aloud.

 _A fucking four-year-old that could read minds._ He had to laugh about it - that was just his luck, wasn’t it?

* * *

_Shimahara burned._

But by then, Nozomi and Mach were on the next train out.  
Mach wasn’t certain of his next step, or what he wanted to do, much less what he was supposed to do. But he knew someone who _would_ have the answers, or at the very least, help him find them.

* * *

_Akhone, Osakiru._

The countryside was… different than any place Mach had been in the six years since Frost’s demise. It was so serene. There were no alleys, no street vendors, no traffic, no smog. No colorful vending machines or giant outlets, no colorful mascots, no burning orphanages.

People didn’t scream or stare fearfully at him. They glanced his way, and seeing little Nozomi holding his hand, would smile and wave. There were people working the fields, and little shops in town. When Mach asked directions, the townsfolk happily pointed him in the right direction.

It was a modest little abode by the lake. A familiar crane got to his feet when he saw Mach and Nozomi approaching, and called for the old woman inside as they reached the front door.

Takeda came to the door. The cup of tea in her hands fell to the floor as she saw him - it had been so, so long, and now he’d come _home_. She ran up and pulled him in a hug, and Mach, against his better judgement, melted into the embrace, returning it. His head was swimming, his thoughts at war with each other.

She led him inside, and for the first time in ages, Mach felt at home.

As Mach lay in bed that night, Nozomi curled up against his chest, Takeda and Penumbra in the adjacent rooms, he found himself reflecting on the events of the past 2 weeks. Meeting this incredible little girl, and travelling with her across not one, not two, but three different provinces as she reminded him how to enjoy life again. How one little girl had changed his life in such a short amount of time, with her infectious joy and endearing quirkiness, Mach couldn’t be certain.

A lot of things, Mach found, were uncertain.

Mach wasn’t sure where he was going, he wasn’t even really sure who he was anymore. A boy. A man. A legacy. A failure. A father? Hell if he knew.

But the little girl in his arms, with her silly tutu that had left Mach and their bed covered in glitter, and her horrid, sticky little fingers and adorable laugh? She was his _journey_ and wherever she took him - whether it was to the other side of Osakiru or the world, he figured he’d be okay with that as long as she was happy.


End file.
